Chapter Two : Lucifer, Love Triangles and the Three Musketeers
Ginny scrambled out from underneath Harry, who looked like he was too lost in reliving his schoolday hatred of Draco Malfoy to be bothered with the person he had just been kissing. It didn't matter, Ginny thought, with only slight bitterness. It took only a second for her to re-erect all her old defenses against Harry Potter anyway. She'd spent years perfecting them, after all, and she was used to being ignored by His Royal Highness I-defeated-Voldemort-about-twenty-times Harry Potter.
It was surprising, though, that being dismissed so summarily still hurt.
Your own fault. What had she been doing, allowing Harry Potter to kiss her? What had she been doing kissing him back?
Ginny shoved a lock of red silk off her forehead and sat back down at her desk. By this time Harry had recovered enough to get off her desk and rearrange his robes, still keeping a mistrustful eye on Draco Malfoy.
Ginny breathed deeply and collected herself. She would not allow this to happen again. She'd spent too long disliking Harry Potter, too long getting rid of her feelings for him, too long putting back the pieces after she'd found out about him and Cho, to have it all shattered with one kiss. He was still the Harry Potter who'd been so callous about her feelings, still the Harry Potter who wasn't perfect and wasn't for her. Nothing had changed. She would not allow it to.
She closed her eyes briefly and opened them again. "May I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" she inquired coolly. That was right. That was correct. Slip into good secretary mode.
She had a chance to study Draco Malfoy as he stood there. He was beautiful, Ginny realized, impersonally. Who did he remind her of, standing there, taking everything in with cool, mocking eyes, dressed in immaculately rumpled Muggle clothes, casual and indifferent?
Oh, of course - how could she not know? He was Lucifer, beautiful and bad -
The childish statement - bad - almost made her grin. He'd certainly grown up since Hogwarts, though, fulfilling all the earlier promise of the classical beauty he'd turned out to be. The cheekbones which had seemed so big and awkward on the thin young face had turned out to be perfect for the older, mature face. Although, Ginny mused, the thin red mouth hadn't learnt any other expressions - it was still curled in that strangely attractive sneer.
"You may, Miss Weasley." Draco drawled, although his sneer was directed at Harry and not at her. "I'm here to see Bernard Hopper."
"What the hell for?" Harry snarled. Always antagonistic, always hotheaded, never stopping to think, that was Harry.
"Don't believe that's any concern of yours, Potter." Draco said airily. "Although I must say, I don't believe Hopper will be too pleased to find out you're having a bit of a fling with his secretary -"
Harry turned red, with embarrassment and anger. Ginny loved this. Harry at a disadvantage was such a rare sight that she reveled in it. She ignored Draco's slighting remark towards her.
"I was not having a fling with his secretary!" Harry growled. "Not that it's any business of yours, Malfoy -"
"Oh, quite, quite." Draco said, with exasperating politeness, which had a remarkable effect on Harry, Ginny noted, with the beginnings of a giggle rising in her throat. He almost turned purple. Draco turned to her with a graceful inclination of his head. "I do beg pardon if you took offense, Miss Weasley."
"Not at all, Mr. Malfoy." Ginny said with equal politeness. "I perfectly understand."
"Stop that, Ginny!" Harry ordered, his face still alarmingly discoloured. "He's being -"
"Now, Potter." Draco reprimanded severely. "Is that any way to speak to a lady?"
Harry lunged for Draco, and what would have happened next had Bernard Hopper not chosen to Apparate in at that moment, was something Ginny would have given her week's wages to know.
_____
"Ron!" Hermione hissed.
Ron looked up in surprise from where he was helping a young wizard to his friend, who stood at the door, her face agitated. He got up and went over.
"Have you seen this?" Hermione asked, waving a paper about.
"No?"
"Well, look at it!" Hermione bit her lip and let Ron gently take the paper from her clenched fist and unfold it. She looked at him as he read, taking in his red hair, the strong, plain profile. He'd grown up so much in those years away from her and Harry. He'd become more confident, more sure of himself and his place, less loud. It was as if he didn't feel the need to constantly assert himself anymore, to constantly make sure he wasn't being forgotten or left out.
Ron looked at her, raising his head, his face white. "Is this true?"
"It's true." Hermione said, with a little laugh, that, even to her sounded desperate. "Oh, Ron, what are we going to do?"
Ron folded the paper back, his hands shaking slightly. "This is bad, Hermione."
"I know it's bad!" Hermione said, almost angrily. "Of course it's bad, Ron. In what way could You-Know-Who re-emerging and killing a dozen Muggles not be bad?"
"Calm down, Hermione." Ron said, soothing her. "I'm sure the Ministry of Magic is doing all it can to keep it under control."
"That's not what I'm worried about." Hermione said, wanting to burst into tears at any moment. "Ron - I'm worried about Harry. Don't you remember what happened the last time Harry saw You-Know-Who? Don't you remember what he said to Harry?"
Ron paled. "Oh God." Hermione saw that he did remember. Not that she had doubted it. The chilling fury in You-Know-Who's voice that last time would be hard for anyone to forget. "Oh, God." He repeated. He glanced at the kids who were starting to dart curious glances at the man and woman who stood in the doorway, ashen-faced and anxious. Ron quickly turned Hermione away from them. "I'm going to get someone to look after the kids for me, all right?" he said, his voice steady and calm, although his hands, Hermione saw, were still trembling. "Then we'll go and see Harry. All right? Hermione! Are you listening to me?"
Hermione nodded, gathering her wits. "I'm sorry. Yes. Hurry, Ron."
Ron hurried away. Hermione watched him, trying to compose herself. Strangely, watching Ron's long, sure strides calmed her. Ron wouldn't let anything happen to Harry.
The last time You-Know-Who had seen Harry -
Harry stood, his face sooty from the ashes of Zonko's in Hogsmeade. His wand was out, his hand steady and strong. Ron stood off to one side, a little away from Harry, and behind. His wand was also out, but they all knew, Ron included, that it would be futile, should Voldemort try to kill Harry. Yet Ron stood there, straight-backed, certain, knowing that his place was at Harry's side. Hermione wished desperately that she could be there, too, in her rightful place on Harry's other side. She glared at her leg, her broken leg, yet she was beyond anger.
Fear - could there be anything worse than this debilitating fear? Hermione choked on ashes and her own bitterness. The cool, gentle hands on her leg made her glance at Ginny, tearing her eyes away from her best friends, her two brave boys. Ginny's face was ashen, and Hermione wondered whether it was for her brother or for Harry -
And wondered if it really mattered.
Voldemort stood facing Harry, the most hideous thing she'd ever seen. His head was thrown back triumphantly - the onlookers having scattered indoors, closing their doors against the most feared wizard in wizarding history.
And to the most heroic ones Hermione had ever seen.
No one to stop Voldemort, no one to stop him from killing Harry or Ron.
Hermione felt a brush of movement against her leg and watched in surprise as Ginny drew her wand as well, her face grim and determined - the face of a woman, not the kid sister Ron was so protective of.
Voldemort raised his wand -
And it was knocked away by a blast from the sky.
Dumbledore, Fudge, Mr. Weasley all came swooping down, with other members of the Ministry.
Anger, at being thwarted, came over Voldemort's face. He flung his hand down, his face so full of hatred that Hermione would have shuddered, if pain hadn't wracked her body.
"Not over, Potter." Voldemort hissed. "Never."
Harry's jaw was tight. "Really?" He said, mockingly, taunting Death.
"I'll be back, Potter. And when I am - we'll finish this."
"I'll be waiting."
"You'll be waiting to die."
_____
Ginny watched in interest as Bernard efficiently separated the two young men and nodded at her. "Some coffee, Miss Weasley?"
Ginny nodded and got up, her mind whirling.
When she got back with the coffee, Bernard was sitting in his office, across from Harry and Draco. He gave her a beam and motioned for her to sit down. Ginny was surprised - secretaries weren't asked to sit in on meetings very often. She sat down next to Draco, noting as she did so that he was exchanging a death stare with Harry.
"Mr Malfoy." Bernard said, suddenly transforming himself from the slightly ridiculous Percyish figure Ginny had thought him to be into an efficient, businesslike Auror. "Why are you here?"
Draco studied him coolly. He nodded at the paper on Bernard's desk. "I'd wager you already know, Hopper."
Ginny glanced at the paper and her blood froze. You-Know-Who Rises Again : Twelve Muggles Perish.
"On the contrary, Malfoy." Hopper said, his eyes narrowed. "Forgive me for saying so, but I was under the impression that you were more in sympathy with Voldemort's league."
Draco lifted his hand in a controlled movement and smoothed back the immaculate white-blonde hair. One eyebrow lifted. "Let's just say I find some of his more recent activities somewhat - distasteful."
Unbidden, a memory rose in Ginny's mind - a recent obituary to the memory of Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother. Her throat closed in horror, she looked at Draco. She had no doubt from his cold, controlled face that that was what he was referring to. She wanted to reach out and touch him, try to push away the dark memories that were darkening the icy gray eyes.
He needed warmth.
And she needed a head check if she thought a Malfoy would welcome any sympathy from a Weasley.
Harry spoke then, his voice unyielding. "How do we know you aren't spying for him?"
Draco smiled unpleasantly. "You'll have to take my word for it."
"And I know how much that's worth." Harry sneered.
"Nevertheless, that's all I have to offer." Draco added, "You'll need all hands on deck to defeat Voldemort." He shrugged gracefully. "I'm prepared to hire mine out."
Ginny wanted to laugh at this typically Draco statement. She glanced at Harry and was surprised to see his face relaxing.
"That sounds marginally more believable." Harry said.
"Nevertheless, I'll have to give you a truth potion." Bernard told Draco. "Standard procedure. I'm sure you understand."
"Perfectly. I have no objection." Draco smiled again, and Ginny was suddenly aware of how controlled Draco was. Even his smile was measured.
"And I'm afraid we can't pay you very much -"
"You'll have to." Draco said, cutting Bernard off. "I'll be acting as the ardent Voldemort lover my father wants me to be, and reporting his activities back to you. I'm sure you agree with me that that is highly dangerous. No doubt Potter here would do it out of sheer rainbow love for doing good, but I'm afraid I'm not quite so noble."
Harry's face went black with anger.
"Besides," Draco went on smoothly, "once Voldemort is defeated and my father finds out that I had a hand in it, I will be very surprised if I'm not disowned. And even if I'm not - I've no doubt that the Ministry will manage to suck the Malfoy coffers dry. Got to save up for the day I don't have access to the Malfoy millions, you know. You wouldn't want me to be penniless, would you?"
The thought made Ginny want to laugh harder than ever. The blackmailing rascal.
"I'll discuss it with Fudge."
"Don't tell me that blithering idiot is still in charge." Draco said with mild surprise.
"He is still in charge." Harry said stiffly. Ginny knew that he had a very low opinion of Fudge's competence himself - he just didn't want to admit that he actually shared something with Draco.
"I'll Owl Fudge now." Bernard said briskly, getting up. "I'll have the reply in about an hour - make yourself comfortable, Malfoy." He left, leaving the three alone.
"Speaking of getting comfortable -" Draco said, slanting a look at Harry. "I don't suppose I get any of your perks, do I? You know. The red-haired kind."
Harry was enraged. "How dare you - you cretin - how dare you speak of Ginny that way - "
Ginny had the feeling Draco was trying to rile both her and Harry. Fortunately, anything that riled Harry was fine with her, especially after the way he'd just treated her, so she just laughed. She glanced at Draco, and he looked back at her. She had a vague feeling that he was surprised.
They were all surprised when Hermione and Ron Apparated in front of them.
They turned immediately to Harry, who looked at them questioningly. Ginny felt that sense of being excluded again, as she always did when she was around them. It was funny how some things still rankled after a long time, even after she'd stopped liking Harry and after she'd lost the closeness she'd once had with her brother. Of course, that was partly why she'd lost that closeness . . .
She turned away slightly, not wanting to make them slant her that unified look of theirs, the one that politely said, Could you please move away? You're not one of us, you see . . .
Better to move away before you got hurt . . .
Draco was sitting on the couch, studying her. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew every thought that was passing through her mind. "Want some coffee?" Ginny asked him abruptly, wanting to get away from Harry. Wanting to stop Draco from giving her that oddly piercing look.
"Of course." Draco got to his feet gracefully. He moved extremely gracefully for someone his length. "But I'll come with you. All this Three Musketeer goodness is making me see pink rainbows everywhere."
The Three Musketeers gave him a look of extreme dislike.
Ginny grinned as she moved into the small kitchenette across the hall. "You're finding it extremely easy to be nice." She said to him, with heavy sarcasm lacing her tone. She was feeling an inexplicable liking of this man. Maybe it was the way he loved to get Harry all worked up. Maybe it was the way he so obviously disliked the Three Musketeers.
Or maybe it was the tingling she got all over when she was near him.
"I'm working for the good side, not having a personality transplant."
Ginny started making the coffee, pouring boiling water into a mug. "You've got a point there." She handed him the mug.
Draco immediately took a sip, never mind that it was boiling hot. She had to hand it to him, he didn't even flinch. He set the mug down and studied her again. In that way. The way that made her want to cover her face and turn away.
She turned, making herself a mug of tea.
"So what's up with you and Potter?"
Ginny wanted to ask why he cared. It was such a personal question that she didn't know what to say. It certainly wasn't the kind of question a normal adult would ask - especially an adult whom they hardly talked to. She smiled blandly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean why are you acting like you hate him when the last I saw you were about to shag him on the desk?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "I was not going to shag him. Not that it's any of your business." She amended quickly.
"Maybe not." Draco agreed. "But I'd like to know anyway."
Ginny looked at him, his cocky, arrogant face, cool eyes and gorgeous sex-on-a-stick-ness. Then she laughed. "Bollocks. You'd love for me not to tell you so you have an excuse to bugger me about it and annoy Harry even more than you're doing now."
Draco smiled. It was a quick, sudden smile, and it had Ginny transfixed. It was such a real smile, not the kind he gave to Hopper or Harry, but a happy, real one. It made the cool face soften and warm.
Briefly, anyway.
Ginny had the feeling he didn't give out those smiles very often.
A/n: More Draco/Ginny interaction next chapter and one of the trio meets an unfortunate end. R&R please!
Disclaimer: Once again HP characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. These first two chapters were written by my co-author, Renebre- so all compliments and critiques are dedicated to her.